The public has demanded right-wing TV shows. And the public shall receive them. Here are some sitcoms that (fingers crossed!) will be pitched to Rupert Murdoch soon…

(Thanks to Stan, who kicked this off with the suggestion Stop the INS, Hannity!)

Low-class furniture mover Don Sampson thought he’d never find love. Until a chance meeting with his favorite news anchor changed his life and the two fell head over heels for one another. Watch the attraction of these two opposites grow into love, this season on Man With a Van Susteren.

Every network needs some daytime drama, which is why we are proud to take an hour out of our midday lineup to bring you a show that can get pretty steamy. We promise, none of these slick plots are rigged…Stay tuned for Oil, My Children.

What happens when you put America’s most beloved comedienne and the current Vice President in the same house? Why, Ball and Cheney, of course! Thanks to the magic of CGI, we’ve combined classic clips of Lucy with some of Cheney’s angriest outbursts for a real laugh riot. Ed. Note: Working title “I Love Dick” was changed due to a LOGO Network injunction.

And finally, even kids need a healthy dose of agenda! We’ve addressed the women, so why not the children? If they’re the ones who are getting off this sinking ship we call America first, they need to know how to lead a fair and balanced life more than anyone! Our new morning programming includes everything from English lessons, as in Osama Rhymes with Obama and numbers, on the show 1, 3, 5, 7, Bill Clinton is Responsible, 13. Also, during the Christmas (we’ll never call it “holiday”) season, we will be running Yes, Virginia There is a Santorum Claus.

Talking about Sahadi’s made me realize that I love Brooklyn a lot. And I’m not the only one. Posh and Becks love it enough to name their kid after it! Poor kid! And a Broadway musical was named after it. Many, many thanks to John Flynn for taking me to see that ear shattering hot mess way back in the day. I believe his selling point in getting me to go was that the orchestra was led by John McD, of “and the McDLT’s” fame. Oh, like you never saw an episode of The Rosie O’Donnell Show? There was a time when no one could avoid the Koosh.

So, I think the point I’m making is “Don’t name a thing after the place where I live because that thing will inevitably disappoint me”.

But anywayyouwantitthatsthewayyouneedit, I plan to support my local fellow Brooklyn crafty people by going to The Cobble Hill Design Fair featuring members of the Brooklyn Indie Market on Saturday.

If my Brooklyn Companion is agreeable enough, we might also hit the Red Hook Harvest Festival and the Gowanus Artists Studio Tour.

Many thanks to Dutch people and rich people for settling my favorite place. Many more thanks to my fireworks-loving landlord for shooting flammable objects into the night sky on any given day of the year. He brings to the area a much-needed grit and danger that you just don’t get from places like the Stinky Brooklyn cheese emporium and Area Baby.

Grocery stores are probably by favorite places to shop. As much as I love H&M and T.J. Maxx, I could spend more time picking out cheese, discovering a new brand of polenta or impulse buying tabbouleh in mass quanitities than I could looking at clothes. I loved Fairway, despite the crowds and overall bad attitudes of customers, and I still love Trader Joes, despite the crowds and tainted bagged spinach, but my favorite place to shop is Sahadi’s. Sahadi’s is on Atlantic Avenue which is also my favorite street. On one end, you’ve got your Target for buying Choxie and BAM for proving you like smart things, on the other you’ve got your Magnetic Field with fun trivia nights and cheap beer, and your Middle Eastern emporiums for buying hummus by the bucketful. Even when I lived in Manhattan though, I would come back to Brooklyn to shop at Sahadi’s. It’s the type of place I go not just to get stuff, but to feel like a real Brooklynite. A Brooklynite who loves her grape leaves, bulk spices and domestic feta. Which is why I’m so glad the Voice included owner Charlie Sahadi in its Best Of section this year.

I seriously love him!

Years ago, my daughter had a dance recital. It started at 7:30. At 7:05,
I’m locking the door to the store, and this guy shows up and says he came all this way,
and he’s begging me to let him shop. He says he was going to spend $300.
I said, “I’m sorry, but if you were going to spend $30,000, it wouldn’t matter.
My daughter’s in a dance recital.”

It’s that time once again – the fall TV season is upon us! And while numbers might be king of the tube this year (The Nine, Studio 60, 30 Rock, Six Degrees), puns will never lose their bright, gleaming luster. Perhaps if the networks had seen my pitches, they wouldn’t have been so numeral happy.

Scorcese has DeNiro. Woody Allen had Diane Keaton. Sofia Coppola has Kirsten Dunst. And David E. Kelley has Fyvush Finkel. This fall, FOX presents Party of Fyvush , a reality show about the comings and goings of everyone’s favorite old kvetcher.

There’s No T in Iams – Rapper Ice-T is known for kicking some serious Special Victims in their unit, but in this wacky sitcom, he kicks them in the funny bone! T plays a down on his luck dad who inherits a pet food company, but he hasn’t the slightest idea how to run it! Hilarity ensues when his daughter, played by (That’s So) Raven shows him who’s boss.

Everyone loves the Food Network, am I right? It’s a real phenomenon. But sometimes those 30-Minute Meals seem a little rushed, wouldn’t you say? For those of you who want to relax and kick off your shoes and watch some slow cooking in real time, the Food Network is proud to present its spin-off network, A Crock-Work Orange. You’ll get 4 episodes a day if you set the channel to Low, 8 episodes if you set it to High. Also in HD.

Everyone’s favorite Biographer, Harry Smith, finds out that he has been overcompensated for his years of working at the Arts & Entertainment Network. Rather than pay them back, he decides that each week he will perform a menial job at either the network’s offices, or the local YWCA until he has sufficiently worked off all that extra pay in A.E., IOU and Sometimes Y.

If there was one good thing to come out of NAFTA, it was the Iron Butterfly cover band formed by residents of our neighbors to the north and south. The “In-a-Canada-Vida” concert will be simulcast on Univision and Much Music this fall!

Wow! With this kind of lineup, I sure hope there’s no need for midseason replacements, but in case there is, I’m workin’ on it!

I’m cheap so I hate being upsold, but I love pre-rehearsed retail speak in any form. The memorization of lines makes the efforts of salespeople more entertaining, for sure.

I’ve never bought anything at Aveda, but they send me coupons for free promotional products as a way of thanking me for my loyalty. Which is nice of them, I’m glad that they know I’m loyal, even if not to them. Free stuff, however, I am very loyal to, so I took advantage of the opportunity to try their customized aromatherapeutic perfume oil. I can use any form of therapy I can get and to pass up one that retails for $19.50 would be foolish. So I went to Aveda ready to create a scent that would soothe my soul without relieving me of my hard earned Washingtons and was greeted by goth Black Lipstick Girl.

Not the first time I’ve been greeted by a member of the Black Lipstick Family, by the way. When I was a freshman in college, my friends took me to the Mac store because I did not own makeup, nor had I ever hooked up with anyone on campus. Armed with our improvised but very marketable mantra that “Beauty Equals Booty” we went to get me some Lipglass and concealer to make me more hot and less lonely, and I was made over by a man wearing a shade of lipstick that I believe he called Rum Raisin. Too dark for my ivory complexion, but he really pulled it off.

Black Lipstick Girl scrutinized my coupon which made me feel like she was on to the fact that I’ve never shopped at her store but then, God love her for abiding by the Aveda script, very seriously said “Okay…Do you have a few minutes to be taken on a sensual journey?” When you put it that way, how could I not find time for that? So with Black Lipstick as my guide, she magically carpeted me to a whole new world that was shining, shimmering, and splendid. The back of the store. This was where I concocted a witch’s brew of sensuality and relaxation consisting of a scented oil she held under my nose. Yeah, it wasn’t so much a “Create a personalized scent” as much as it was “Smell this and then I’ll bottle it”. Hey! My whole new world felt cheap! Plus, I felt olfactorily rushed. I got to smell four oils but we took our journey so quickly that I didn’t even notice much of a difference between any of them and just told her to give me the last one she called “woodsy” but now that my palate is cleared actually smells like banana Runts. Hardly the scent I’d like enveloping me as I rub my temples in a steamy tub. I guess you do pay a price for free stuff after all.

Last night, Hillertime and I went to Aldo because my dogs were barkin’ somethin’ ugly. My shoes were a wreck, they looked and smelled homeless. I wouldn’t sit next to them on the subway, that’s for sure. I tried on a pair and told the salesman I needed a different size and he told me “No, it’s ok, I can give you something to put in the shoe to make it fit”. Or…you could get me the size I want and not sell me anything else? Maybe? I think that’s how most other shoe stores work?

So I bought a new, correctly sized pair and as I was rung up, the salesgirl with her thick Russian accent said “Here is how you will care for shoes,” and proceeded to coat half of one shoe in waterproofing spray.
“You will do this every two weeks”.
I’m sure some people are like “Well that’s just great, now 1/4 of my total foot area will be protected from the elements, I should buy the spray just to finish the job this woman started” but not me. I am a savvy consumer who will not be fooled! When I rejected her shoe-care advances, she rang me up without the pleasantness that was present at the start of our relationship. I really missed the old her.

I enjoyed that she made the Aldo-script her own but she was like the Michelle Rodriguez of shoe salespeople – I respected the performance but the real-life person made me uncomfortable and scared. Jeff and I left the store worried that the shoe mafia might trail us and beat us with the array of unbought items we left behind.

I saw something the other day on TV where one person asked another “What’s the point of dying?” and the response was “To make life mean something”. I’m actually pretty sure it was from an episode of Lost – that show can get deep purple, for reals. But maybe that’s the point of people like Mean Aldo Saleslady – her death-like existence made me more thankful that there are people like Black Lipstick Guy, whose purpose was to make me (more) pretty, no questions asked. I only wish I could go back and thank him for his help. By the way, ladies – beauty really does equal booty.